At The Old Waterhole by Lee Evans

Lee Evans | Nov 21st, 2019 | poetry | No Comments


While I was sitting
on a rock beside the pond,
contemplating my image
in an iridescent oil slick,
I overheard a pigeon
speaking “pigeonese”
to another as they sipped
that same water, daintily:

“I had no idea
they were so intelligent!”
said pigeon number one.
“They actually have an alphabet,
and are able to have ideas!
Why, I do believe
they communicate together—
have their own civilization,
if you can believe such a thing.”

“Who would have thought?”
exclaimed pigeon number two.
“They seem so oblivious,
like huge, blundering dreams!
“Now, if they only had wings to fly,
they’d see everything
from up in the sky,
in perspective, as we do!”

Poet Bio

Lee Evans lives in Bath, Maine with his wife and one small cat. He and his wife work at the local YMCA. The cat stays home and collects welfare benefits.

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